


Picturesque

by Terminality



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-19
Updated: 2012-02-19
Packaged: 2017-10-31 10:21:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminality/pseuds/Terminality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave second person POV, PWP. Response for the kink meme request: "Just anyone worshipping a troll's nook. Eating it out, fingering it, kissing, licking, caressing, adoring it and getting themselves all sticky and painted with the troll's color."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picturesque

Karkat is spread on the pile-turned-bed, naked from the waist down, his black sweater pulled up to his ribs and his hands clenched in your hair, and you are kissing little lines around the center of his midriff and hips while he hisses out swears. It's a sort of routine: you trace patterns on his gray skin with the tip of your tongue, skirting around his hip bones and bulge, and he curses you in two different languages and with more flourish than you've ever heard until you both crack and you give him what he wants (what you want).

You love it. You love his skin, gray and sharp against your albino-white, and you love the warmth of his genetic material as it slowly trickles out onto the tips of your fingers when you press them firmly against his nook. You circle the opening with your hand while you kiss and bite his inner thigh, pressing firmly against it and watching out of the corner of your eye when pale pink beings to spill onto your fingers.

You love that, too. You love the contrast between his skin and yours and the pale red of his wetness, love feeling it slick and warm on your hand.

"You are a waste of paradox space I swear to god I don't even know why I let you do this to me, f-fuck, you're not even any good at it - god fucking dammit _do something_ already." He moans it in a broken slur of English and Alternian and you chuckle against his abdomen, taking pleasure in the gasp of his breath when your lips tickle his skin.

He's gorgeous, struggling under your hands and tugging on your hair with his claws, digging at your scalp hard enough to sting but not cause serious damage. You love everything about doing this to him - the way he moans out half-hearted slurs, the way he squirms down into the pile of blankets and pillows until he's almost lost in the mounds of cloth. The way he gasps and hisses when you finger him, sliding your finger in his nook as deep as possible and curling it inside him.

"Gotta be patient, Karkitty. I like takin' my time," you say it against his thigh while you stare at his nook and the joint of your finger where it's disappeared inside him. It's a gorgeous sight, too, and you tell him so, and he half-groans and half-snarls at you in response, bucking his hips when you pull your finger out and push it back in again.

"Oh my god you are a horrible, terrible human, the worst person left in this pitiful fucking non-existence," he stops mid-sentence when you pull your finger out of him and press a gentle, teasing kiss to the entrance to his nook, the words dissolving into jagged Alternian and hisses. He grinds against your face on reflex and you have to hold him down with your free hand while you press another light kiss to his skin to prevent him from nearly smothering you to death in his crotch.

You're actually pretty sure that would be the best way to die, all things considered. A face full of angry troll junk is definitely up there on the list, at the very least.

"You're greedy, you know that? Greedy and impatient and a complete slut for some grade-A Strider affection," you say it so quiet and muffled that you're not entirely sure he understands what you've said, but he growls deep in his chest in response anyway.

"Stop teasing." His voice cracks and if it weren't for the fact that you were licking at the base of his bulge and otherwise occupied you would have laughed at the desperation and lust there.

When you finally give in, wrapping one hand around his bulge and pressing the other gently against his hip to steady him, you can't help but moan right along with him. You slide your tongue along the outside of his nook, the taste of him thick and tangy in the back of your throat and his pulse beating against your mouth, and he clutches onto your hair and neck as if you are a last lifeline. His legs are on either side of your face, his heels digging into your sides as he braces himself against you, and you just lose yourself in him, in the warmth and taste of him in your mouth and against your face.

You slide your tongue into his nook and kiss him. You press your lips against his opening and suck, letting the salty-sweetness of his genetic material coat your tongue and mouth, savoring the taste.

You love this. You're not even ashamed to admit it, that you love eating him out and fingering him and making him squirm; that you love his nook and his skin and every little detail about him. You would photograph this, if you could - you've tried before, when he had finally opened up enough and you had sworn on your honor as a Strider that you would share the pictures with no one, but they had been unable to catch the true beauty of the moment. (You still kept them, however, because it would have been a waste of precious camera space otherwise.)

It doesn't take long for you to push him over the edge, all of your previous teasing having already brought him close, and you savor it, letting his genetic material spill over your lips and down your chin. He rides out the wave of his orgasm grinding into your mouth and tongue and you squeeze his bulge in time with his frantic rocking, and he moans your name against the crook of his elbow while he comes.

When he's finished you pull yourself back up alongside him and trail your fingers along his nook one last time, the shudder that shoots through his body bringing a smile to your face.

"Get off of me, you're covered in filth and it's fucking disgusting," he says when you try to pull him into your arms, and you laugh and lick at your lips before wiping your mouth and chin on the back of your sleeve. He's right, of course - you are bright pink from the lips down to your collar bone, and you're fairly certain this is going to be another stained shirt to add to the pile, but you can't really care. You love that about it, too.

"Totally worth it though." He rolls his eyes while he pulls down his sweater to cover up his stomach again before finally consenting to being held with a huff. You gather him up into your arms and press a kiss to the top of his head, enjoying the calm that always seems to wash over him afterward and the lingering taste of him on your tongue.

You can't help it: you are completely and utterly obsessed with Karkat's nook, and you don't really regret it at all.


End file.
